Date: Thu, 29 Apr 2004 18:42:01 GMT
From: anonymous4371@juno.com
Subject: THE BRIGHT ORANGE YAMAHA (authoritarian/interractial)
THE BRIGHT ORANGE YAMAHA
by Bill Smith
I suppose I realized things were getting a little out of hand when
George Lauderdale pulled up to the Club's entryway in a brand new Yamaha
1500cc with a $3000 custom orange paint job and not one, but two, "peg"
seats installed behind the driver. Although you could have carried two
passengers instead of the usual one with the new accessory, it was
obviously designed for much more than that. Even the most insouciant
observer could not have overlooked the unmistakable persona of George's two
"passengers" onboard.
Both were slaves as was evident by their tightly collared necks,
the complete nakedness of their totally shaved bodies, their ringed tits,
and their genitals carefully cinched to force a maximum display of their
exceptionally large, well-shaped now erect packages. But these weren't just
dime-a-dozen slaves, these slaves were each clearly one of a thousand and
must have cost a small fortune. The pair were exactly matched in height
and weight (5'8" and 155 pounds respectively), were extremely well defined
in their heightened muscularity, were strikingly handsome in an almost
Grecian sense of male beauty, and were identical in their flamboyantly
displayed manhood. The only difference was one slave sported a shiny jet
black hide and green eyes; the other was a creamy ivory with blond hair and
brown eyes. Both 20-year-olds displayed the Lauderdale crest burnt into
their right pec and their left ass cheek along with their slave
identification number tattooed on their left forearm. Each slave's tall,
thick collar was painted orange to exactly match the custom paint job of
the Yamaha upon which they were seated.
"Jesus, George," I exclaimed as he brought the Yamaha to a halt.
"You've outdone even yourself with this get up."
"Yes, fully dressed," he laughed, nodding at the two slaves in back
of him, bracing his foot as the machine came to a complete halt. I
couldn't help but notice the look of total concentration on the two slave's
handsome faces - each marvelously fine-looking slave had their eyes half
closed, their brows furrowed and their pricks dripping. It was the look of
a slave who was stretched to the point of real pain, but was simultaneously
having his prostate massaged to experience real sexual pleasure. Without
being told specifically, I knew each slave was mounted on a sizable butt
plug affixed to the motorcycle's seat itself, a fact verified when I saw
each slave stretching as best they could without moving their asses to
place their foot down on the ground to prevent the Yamaha from tipping.
"And you've had a fairly bouncy ride," I laughed, "judging from
those dripping pricks," pointedly looking at the slave's throbbing
erections.
"Well, my friend, those pricks stay good and hard from the moment
they settle in on their special seats, but, I admit, a good bouncy ride
makes it hard for them to keep from shooting off all over themselves,
despite knowing they'll get a good thrashing if they don't control
themselves. Like most slaves I know of, they're only allowed to relieve
themselves with their master's permission, of course."
"From the looks on those gorgeous faces, they're right on the
edge," I commented as George put down the kickstand with a sharp command
"Dismount." The slave most rearward, the blond, instantly put both hands
down on the saddle and, getting a good grip, pushed upward until his
asshole was cleared of a very large dildo affixed to the saddle itself, and
once cleared with a large plop, swung himself down off the motorcycle's
saddle and down onto his knees into a kneeling position with his head
lowered. This was immediately followed by the black slave going through
the same motions, kneeling beside his fellow slave at the side of the
machine. George Lauderdale then swung his legs over the saddle and, taking
two leashes out of a side saddlebag, leashed both slaves by their bright
orange collars.
"Stand and display," George ordered and instantly the two slaves
rose from their knees, spread their legs about two feet apart, placed their
hands in back of their necks, tensed their muscles, and thrust their
pelvises forward with an inviting smile on their handsome faces.
"Like them?" George asked as he reached forward and fondled the
black slave's easily accessible balls.
"Very striking," I said admiringly, but you know, George, that
white slave looks quite a bit like you - a least the part of you I've
seen." Snickering, I added, "of course, I doubt if you're hung like this,"
reaching over, and with a nod of approval from George, began stroking the
huge organ of the blond slave. "You don't see many hung like this," I
commented as the organ quickly swelled to a full erection in my hand. "But
his face and general build reminds me a lot of you for some reason or
another."
"No mystery about that, buddy. That slave you're playing around
with is my cousin. His daddy was my daddy's brother, at least until he got
himself enslaved for bankruptcy. My uncle and his entire family were
enslaved under state law to help play off all the debts he'd incurred over
the years. Uncle Harry got bought up by a mining company, his wife was
sold off as a worker at one of those places that mix up and process slave
chow, and his three sons, all pretty good looking, brought top dollar on
the auction block. I bought this one as a display slave - his older and
younger brother weren't as lucky. His older brother by two years was sold
off to a male brothel, mainly because he is almost as good looking as this
one here, and his younger brother, just a year younger, a real looker
himself, was sold off as an attendant to a divorcee who already owned a
couple of studs at her disposal. Their old man won't last six months down
in the mines the way they work their slaves under the whip 14 hours a day
if he's not dead already, but he didn't bring much on the block anyway.
His wife, this boy's mama, will probably last a good ten or twenty years if
she doesn't pick up a disease or something, but she'll never see her sons
again in all likelihood. This slave here saw his brother that was sold off
to that divorcee just the other day: she was parading her little harem
while she was out shopping when we happened to be driving by. That brother
is damn good looking, especially displayed as he was stark naked, body
shaved, and fully ringed being led along by his neck leash. Of course, the
other two slaves in her bevy were something to look at too. That lady has
a good eye for male slave flesh, let me tell you."
"What did your boy here do when he saw his brother? I suppose it
was the first time since they were auctioned off."
"Well, that's the strange part of it. I thought he would try to
wave or yell at his brother, but he just started crying, trying to hide it
so he thought I wouldn't notice. I looked over at his brother and, guess
what? He was crying too, trotting along behind his mistress. Slaves are
just weird sometimes. You'd think they'd be glad to see each other, and
there were just quietly sobbing. Maybe they didn't like each other or
something? Who knows? Families just aren't what they used to be, I guess.
At least it would seem he would want his brother to know he had found a
good home and, as far as that goes, it seems his brother would want to
convey the same message. What could be better than ending up as a display
slave for your uncle or a mistress' pleasure stud if you're just a slave?
Those three brothers all ended up in slave heaven, compared to the
situations slaves usually end up in. Probably due to their good looks, I'd
wager. Lucky bastards and then sobbing - strange!"
"Did the sale of the five pay off the debts?" I inquired.
"Brought in enough to pay 80 cents on the dollar, I understand.
Not bad, considering the banks could have ended up with nothing. The new
state laws covering bankruptcy make a lot of sense. Since it was put on the
books, it's cut the banks' losses substantially, I hear.
"Well, as a banker myself, let me assure you the law has been most
beneficial in recovering bad debts. I'm proud to say, George, I lobbied
hard on that bill and wrote a good part of it myself to make sure we closed
all the loopholes those irresponsible free spenders and suck offs would try
to find when the chips were down and a collar was about to be fastened
around their necks. You know they would be the very persons to get some
slimy lawyer to try to find some loophole - but I made damn sure there
weren't any. That's why the law works so well and we now have fine
looking, well hung boys like this one taking some responsibility for their
family's debts." I squeezed and stroked the blond's shaft harder than I
had intended in making my point and the slave's muted moans made me realize
he was just about to shoot off in my hand if I didn't let up some.
"Well, I guess I should thank you for getting that bill passed,"
George said. "I'll let you fuck my cousin as a little thank you if you'd
like."
"I'd like that, George," I responded. "That's generous of you.
Are you going to join me with the black, or just watch your cousin in
action?
"You know, someone told me they thought I bought my own cousin
because he looks so much like me it proved I was a narcissist. But another
friend told me it was because they thought it was my way or fucking myself.
I thought I was doing it to help my cousin have an easy time as a slave,
but that same friend told me if that were so I was rich enough to buy up
the whole family, but instead just bought the one that looked like me. So
they didn't let me get by with any cheap charity - it was pure ego, plain
and simple, according to them. But, who cares? At any rate, the boy's a
great fuck as you'll see for yourself, especially now that I've got him
opened up good perched on that huge dildo on the Yahama. But to answer
your question, I'm going to fuck the black, but not right here. Let's go
inside and use one of the fucking couches set out for that very purpose by
the Club. The last time I fucked one of these display slaves over the
motorcycle saddle, the whole damn thing tipped over when I really got
pounding away in the boy's ass and the slave got burnt a little on the hot
engine. That didn't bother me so much, but it scarred his hide quite a bit,
so I traded him in on this black."
I reached over and fondled one of the black slave's ringed tits.
"Where did you buy this one?" I asked.
"He came with the new Yahama," George laughed. "Actually, his
previous owner didn't have much equity in him, so he traded him in with his
old bike on a new Yamaha. The dealer used the equity as his down payment
and bought the slave's mortgage from the bank. He then used the black to
entertain his best customers while they were waiting for service and
repairs on their bikes as well as gave them a full night's use if they
traded up to a new model. When I showed up, he offered the use of his
black to me if I'd buy a new bike, but, after fucking him right then and
there, I offered to buy the black along with the new bike if he'd give me a
decent discount on both. He didn't give me a discount on the bike or the
black, but he did offer to give me free of charge the custom paint job you
see here if I'd buy both. That custom paint job runs around $3000 so I
closed the deal."
"Where'd he come from before all this bike stuff?" I asked.
"The court's sentenced him to lifetime slavery about two years ago
- drug dealing. He won't be doing that anymore. I really think the
slavery laws are essential to maintain decent society. You know, drugs
aren't nearly the problem they were before the slavery laws were put in
place, I understand, although that was before my time."
"Mine, too, but I certainly agree with the laws as they now stand.
It's hard to imagine a society where there's no real price to pay for
violating the law. And I certainly can't imagine a society where slaves
weren't available at a reasonable price. How did decent people fulfill
their basic needs?"
"Yeah, everyone's better off the way things stand now - especially
the slaves. Hell, the criminal elements just use to go around killing each
other off and some others were starving to death. It's a lot better
now. Every slave, once he or she is sold off, has a purpose in life."
"If you're through playing with this black's tits, I'll take both
of them inside and we can find a comfortable place to fuck the daylights
out of them. And then, if you like, we'll trade off. I always like a
little "family fuck" after taking the black and my cousin will do just
fine. And, if you're like me, you'll enjoy a little black ass after the
blond. Sort of a study of contrasts, you might say."
We both laughed at that one, and the four of us went inside where
we quickly found two convenient couches and bent the two slaves into the
best positions for a good solid pounding. George's cousin moaned and
gasped as I drove up his tight chute, arching his back at times in an
attempt to alleviate the pressure, obviously not fully acclimated to his
new role in life yet. But the black slave seemed to take his usage in
stride, even, according to George's running account of the event,
tightening his ass muscles to squeeze George's huge shaft within him to
heighten his user's pleasure. After we had spilled a good load up their
asses and rested up a bit, we did trade off and fucked the second slave of
the day even harder. The blond slave really groaned when George rammed
into him full length, surprising since, knowing George, I was sure he
fucked his slaves at least two or three times a day for God knows how long
and maybe his cousin even more. After that, we let the slaves clean us up
with their tongues and then headed back to the George's new Yahama. The
slaves walked a little gingerly after being fucked so hard and streams of
thick white cum oozed out of their assholes.
"Mount, slaves," George ordered and the two slaves charily lifted
their sore asses over the huge greased dildos and slid down until their
asses were once again stuffed and they were firmly "in place" on the
Yahama's saddle.
As George went sailing off, he shouted, "Tomorrow, same time and
place? And this time, bring those two new handsome Latino slaves of yours
so we can fuck all afternoon. Surely you didn't think you could hide them
from me forever."
"You're on!" I yelled back as the bright orange Yamaha roared off,
fully dressed now with the two display slaves pegged in place.
THE END